


Robbie is Sick (not in the evil way, just a cold.)

by foxy_mulder



Series: Lazytown [1]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Cuddling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Self Esteem Issues, Sickfic, kinda angsty, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_mulder/pseuds/foxy_mulder
Summary: Robbie Rotten gets a cold, and it's up to Lazytowns Slightly Above Average hero to help out.





	

Robbie Rotten looked through his binoculars with puffy red eyes and wondered where his life had gone so wrong.

All the children were outside playing some STUPID sport and doing STUPID exercise and he couldn't even muster up the energy to put on a disguise, much less cause mischief.  
Not that they'd notice he was gone, anyway. Stupid brats, who needed them, right?

"Why me?" he tried to cry dramatically, but it came out as more of a scratchy whine.  
The comforter he had thrown on did little to improve his shivering.  
He stood and attempted to walk to the microwave to make a cake- the only food he really knew how to make, honestly- but a coughing fit wracked his body and reduced him to miserable quaking on the floor. He tried to regain composure. After all, what if someone showed up and saw- **well. Not that anyone ever comes over,** Robbie thought. He didn't exactly have friends for situations like this. Now that he thought of it, he didn't have friends at all. The composure he'd tried for wouldn't come; the coughs kept up, wracking his body and feeling like his throat was being shredded.

God, it hurt. His chest was sore and his eyes watered and he was hot but somehow cold and wow, now would be a time he could see why having.. someone care about you... might be nice. Robbie huddled further into the comforter with a sigh. He considered just going to sleep on the floor. As he began to drift off, a voice startled him awake.

"Robbie?"

He sat up with a jolt, wincing as he gazed into the bright face of Lazytowns slightly-above-average hero, SportaKook. SportaLoser. Sporta **looks really concerned actually and is he talking to me?**

"What?" Robbie snapped. It lacked its usual bite. Sportacus frowned.  
"I was just asking if you are okay. You see, my crystal alerted me that-"

No. This couldn't be happening. This was like... wet dream fodder, or something, not something that could-or should- happen in real life. Perfect Sportacus Town Hero coming over to take care of the villian who lives underground? Unrealistic. Though appealing-

"Listen, I'm FINE, and I don't need your pity, so.. you know where the exit is, Sporta-aaA- CHOO"

The sneeze seemed to set off a chain reaction; another vicious coughing fit followed it. It seemed to last forever. Minutes, days, hours, who can tell, right? Felt like hours, anyway. Robbie fully expected Sportacus to be gone, saving some amputee puppy, by the time it was over. Instead he found him still in the hall, holding out a glass of.. what? something clear. Sprite? 

"Drink some water."

WATER?! Not soda? Right, and next he was going to suggest-

"Would you like some fruit? Or chicken soup? Just- You seem very sick, Robbie, I'd like to help any way I can."

There it was. He wanted to help. Robbie really wanted to hate him. Robbie **always** wanted to hate him. It never seemed to happen the way he planned, though, just like everything, just like this cold, just like not having any friends, just like relying on this idiot who Robbie knew didn't care about him, the idiot who wanted to help anyway because he was just a good person. He was just healthy and popular and strong and good the way Robbie would never-

Sportacus was looking at him expectantly, as if he was waiting for an answer. Oh, right. The soup.

"...I..I like chicken soup," he mumbled into the comforter. It felt like some shameful admission. He wasn't sure why. He didnt dwell on it, though, because at that moment Sportacus beamed brightly and scooped him up off the floor like he weighed nothing, depositing him on the fluffy chair.

"I'll be right back!" He called, already out the door. Robbie shuddered.  
What a guy. He wanted to be carried again already. He liked the carrying.  
**But I don't want pity carrying, I want..well, I don't think there is another kind, is there?**

He thought about it. Sportacus carried Stephanie sometimes, on his back. But that was part of a game. He wasn't usually invited to things like that. And Sportacus had carried Ziggy once, he seemed to remember. Robbie recalled all the times Sportacus had carried him. Were they real, or just dreams? He was having trouble separating reality from dreams, now, and felt very warm. His head was muddled. How long had Sportacus been gone? 

Robbie waited for what seemed like some time, humming softly and drifting in and out of sleep. It had been awhile, right?

Was he even coming back? Was this a prank? Did Sportacus leave him here to go play outside? No- Sportacus wouldn't do that. Robbie would do that. Being a bad person was for Robbie, to get attention and annoy people, which compensated for his social awkwardness, which was caused by his low self esteem, which came from him being such a bad person. So it was a self created cycle, really. 

He took a sip of the water. It was bland, but felt like little butterflies in his throat. Robbie was- what was he doing? He was...Sportacus had been over. Maybe Sportacus really had left to go play with the kids. Robbie felt nauseous at the thought. He hadn't even been very snarky toward Sportacus this time. He was really trying.

**Why can't I do anything right?**

Had Sportacus gone home? Robbie wouldn't have blamed him; he knew his place wasn't very fun. Nor was he a prority- If Sportacus' crystal had sensed a kid falling from a tree, it would obviously come before his stupid little cold. Maybe that was where he'd gone. Saving someone who actually needed it. Robbie was just being selfish again, wanting him there. He suddenly felt stifled. And hot. He felt odd. And did he mention he was hot, because he was hot. But cold, too. Robbie hummed loudly to distract himself, stopping when his throat protested. 

He heard a slamming sound; it seemed far off. But the next moment, there was-

"SPORTACUS!"

His voice sounded muffled to his own ears. He felt hot. Sportacus winced. 

**Too loud.**

"Sorry, Sportadork, sorry" he said in what he hoped was a quieter voice.

Sportacus chuckled softly and said he was going to take Robbies temperature.  
He put a hand on his forehead, and it felt cold. But Robbie didn't tell him to shove off, because Sportacus was touching him and that was A-OK anytime, any day. The hand was large and slightly rough, though it brushed his forehead gently. Robbie shivered.

"You feel feverish," Sportacus said sympathetically  
**Feverish? No duh... At least he's good looking, any idiot could guess I'm feverish.**  
He considered saying it out loud, but decided to try not to screw up the brief peace with Sportacus. (And it would reveal too much, wouldn't it?)

Sportacus began to retract his hand, but Robbie snatched it impulsively before realizing what he was doing and letting go.  
Sportacus gave him an odd look.

Then he ran into the other room, coming back with soup and pillows, and perching precariously on the edge of the fluffy seat as Robbie ate.  
His hands shook too much to hold the spoon properly, and he had to be helped eating the soup.  
Sportacus practically spoon fed him. It was embarrassing.

Then he had another bout of coughing, and Sportacus rubbed his back in small circles, humming that stupid "Bing Bang" song all the while. Afterward he let Robbie lean against his side, exhausted. It was **disgustingly** comforting, not to mention confusing.

And then Robbie fell asleep for several hours, waking up to find him STILL THERE, apparently searching for tea in the cabinets. Robbie was simply... bewildered. 

"What are you doing?" He rasped.

"Tea is very good for colds, I have read, so I was just-"

"No, I mean- I mean, what are you still doing in my house?"

Sportacus seemed to deflate slightly. "I wanted to help?" he offered with a shrug.

"It's past 9 pm, and you go to bed at 8:08 every night. You've been here all day." Robbies coughed and he continued.

"Why are you doing this for me? I mean, thanks a lot, but it's hard to be grateful when I know you'd rather be somewhere else, with someone else, doing something a little more worthy of your time."  
He finished weakly, voice giving way to a tiny sneeze. 

Sportacus flinched at the sound.  
The silence was deafening.

He blinked.

"Is that really what you think? That this isn't worth my time?"

Robbie didn't know if that was rhetorical or not. What did Sportacus expect him to say? 

Yes?

Never come back here again?

I understand, and it's fine?

Please don't leave me alone?

Before he could decide which response he preferred, Sportacus did a backflip off the counter and landed inches from Robbies feet. He stared at him with a look that can only be described as "dying puppy." Whatever Robbie had said to incite this response, he wanted desperately to take it back, whatever way he could.

"Sorry, I-"

"Robbie, my crystal glows for everyone in the town, including you. You deserve to be saved as much as anyone else. Of course that is worth my time, why wouldn't it be?"

Robbie wished Sportacus could just read his mind, because all the responses he had to that, responses that made so much sense in his head, would come out sounding incredibly pathetic and convoluted. Couldn't he just understand that Robbie wasn't like the others in town? He wanted to die. Sportacus was going to hate him even more, or even pity him. But he had to say something. 

"I'm not a good person, Sportador- Sportacus. I've never been nice to you. It doesn't make sense for you-"

**To pretend you care. To rub my back. To ignore my obvious crush.**

"- to help me out."

Sportacus sighed and sat down beside him. 

"You are nice, sometimes, when you think people don't see. Very often, in fact. You can be a very good person when you try, Robbie."

"I don't think so. No one else thinks so, either."

Sportacus' head snapped toward him, and he had an odd expression.

"What do you mean, no one else thinks so? Who told you that?"

"No one told me that, I just-"

**No one likes me. No one invites me anywhere. Of course I'm not good enough.**

"I just..."

**People only talk to me when they're mad. Sportacus is always disappointed in me, even now, even when I'm trying to be nice-**

"..I.."

**Unlovable. Unlikable.**

He started crying. He hid his face in the pillows and tried to suppress his sobs and coughs. This was so embarrassing. This was so embarrassing. Sportacus was still here, seeing him break down, it was too much, **he's still here, he can see this, what's he going to think if he stays, what if he leaves, what if-**  
Robbie drew in a deep, shuddering breath, but the calm didn't come.

"Robbie, are you okay? No, that's- of course you're not, can you tell me what to do to help? I don't know what to do in these kind of situations..." 

Sportacus sounded frightened, a tone Robbie had never heard from him before. It didn't suit him. He peered out through wet lashes and saw Sportacus half reaching for him, hesitating as if, for once in his life, he was uncertain of what to do. He didn't know Sportacus could be uncertain.

**Screw it, if he hates me he hates me.**

He reached out, pulling Sportacus into a hug. His pulse quickened, waiting for the (surely gentle, after all this was Sportacus) rejection, but it never came. Sportacus leaned into the hug. He splayed one hand over Robbies back; the other cradled his head, pressing it into his shoulder.

"You make it hard to be there for you, Robbie," Sportacus said quietly. 

His breath was tickling Robbies neck. It was nice. He felt Sportacus breathe in.

"I do like you, you know."

No, actually, he hadn't known that. That was a very big deal. For some reason it made him want to start crying again, so he did.  
Sportacus pulled back slightly, his face contorted in worry.

"I'm sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable, I won't mention it anymore, okay? Please don't cry."

"No, it doesn't, it doesn't, please mention it again."  
**Don't ever stop mentioning it.**

Sportacus smiled.  
"Do you like me Robbie?"  
"Yes," he croaked, too quickly. Sportacus beamed.

"Well, it is getting late, so let's sleep now, alright?"

**If he leaves, it's okay, I'll have dreams about this for days anyway and that'll be enough.**

"Where is your bed?"

**Oh.**

So he was carried again, and it was wonderful, except for the sneezing.  
And then Sportacus was in his bed, sleeping.  
And Robbie was in his bed too, overthinking. 

**What did he mean? "I Like You" could mean anything. Like, does he like me or like like me? probably just like, right? Either way is okay with me, but- or- What am I, a teenage girl?**

He resolved to go to sleep then, the little spoon for the person who liked-or-like-liked-him-or-loved-him-or-maybe-didnt-like-him,-who-could-know?.

Maybe he would have an answer another day.

For the moment, though, he was finding out that Sportacus snored.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic, please comment! I hope you liked it!


End file.
